


finally it seems my lonely days are through

by earlofcardigans



Category: Mamma Mia! (2008)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 17:29:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlofcardigans/pseuds/earlofcardigans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Petros discuss future travel plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	finally it seems my lonely days are through

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Joanne_c](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joanne_c/gifts).



“What is it today?”

Petros was lying over the duvet in Harry’s old pajama bottoms and blowing steam off his tea.

Harry rolled over to look at him. He looked more than anything. They had had so many nights together doing everything they possibly could because Harry had felt like everything was going to fall out from under him because no one could grab hold of spontaneity and force it into compliance.

They also had the slow, calm nights and the quiet, cold mornings that Harry was never sure how to navigate.

He’d never put himself in that situation before.

He didn’t think Donna counted. Harry knew that was never going to last.

Petros leaned over Harry and kissed him off-center of his mouth and then asked again, "What’ll it be?”

Harry leaned up on an elbow and stole a sip of tea. It was for Harry anyway. It had more cream in it that Petros liked. He let Petros keep the mug and slid his hand down Petros’ arm and over the soft skin of his back.

He rolled over onto his stomach as well and pressed up close to Petros, tangled hopelessly in the duvet now.

They both stared out over the river as the sun swelled in the sky. Harry thought it wouldn’t last there long. The morning clouds burned off fast but everything London settled back in quickly, grey and dusty and heavy.

Harry looked at the lightness of Petros. Compared to the sun, Petros was as vibrant. He was almost as bright, almost as warm.

Harry smiled at himself and then pressed it to Petros’ wrist.

He had stolen a sun. And no one had questioned him. No one had called him back and told him his spontaneity had a price.

“I think today it’s Argentina.” Harry turned to see Petros watching the same sun and river and steam.

“Argentina? Is that something we can do?” Petros handed him his tea and rolled onto his back to look at Harry.

“I think so.” Harry drank his tea and watched his sun shine through his room and light up all the corners of his life.

Harry smiled into his mug when he thought about how much he felt like he was hiding before.

“Have you been there before?” Petros asked. Just like he asked every other time they went somewhere new. He was sure that Harry was lying about half of the places he’d seen.

This time he said, “No. Never even thought about it before.”

“I never have either.”

Harry set the mug on the window sill and ignored Petros’ admonishing face. He shrugged his offer of getting it later and turned back on his side to face Petros.

“What do you think of it now? I hear it’s colorful there.”

Petros wound his fingers with Harry’s and looked around the bedroom. “Well, love. Maybe color might help.”

Harry laughed and squeezed his fingers hard.

“We don’t have to leave at all for that then. Just go in the sitting room. Or the kitchen.”

Petros laughed just the way Harry was prepared for.

“Where did you get the green and yellow cookware from anyway? I know you didn’t pack that in your luggage.”

“Your friend showed me a pretty little shop. And Sophie texts me regularly about things she finds that she thinks I’d love.” He stopped and smiled at Harry almost bashfully. “In case I was homesick.”

Harry had seen that look on his face before. When he thought Harry might agree and offer to ship him home or if Harry agreed and felt sad for him or tired of him.

That was always the time Harry made sure the wrinkles by his eyes where most prominent with how much he loved, appreciated and was humored by Petros. Tried to show him in the details of his face, the cups of his ouzo, the loudest laughs.

“In case you ever get homesick, one day when you ask where it will be, answer your own question. Tell me. And we’ll go. Forever, if you need.”

“You know I don’t need to be there forever. I only have one of those now.”

He kissed Harry on the forehead and leaned back with the same question that still hadn’t been answered.

“Yes, yes. Argentina. There’s a block of shops a few streets over. I heard one has a tapas café in back of it. Very good. Authentic.” Harry tried for his brisk banker voice, but the way Petros let his smile take over his face, Harry knew he had failed.

That was the thing Harry loved most about everything that had transpired to this point: Petros called him on almost all his bullshit.

“So.” Harry shook his head and tried to sit up. He needed to be out of bed and finding clean shirts at least thirty minutes ago.

Good thing he was now his own boss.

“So?” Petros just rolled over and occupied all the space Harry left.

Every space.

“How’s the travel log coming along? Have we eliminated anything yet?” Harry stood in front of his open wardrobe and contemplated all the work shirts that weren’t white.

There were now an abundance. In his head, Harry danced to his favorite song. The shirts weren’t even from Petros or his influence.

Harry had suddenly remembered he liked vibrant colors and deep blacks.

Harry had suddenly remembered a good number of things upon returning home with Petros in tow.

“I think we are eliminating Madagascar for time being, yes?” Petros knelt on the bed to watch Harry select a shirt and trousers.

“If I recall correctly, you were worried it would be lacking in penguins.” Harry shook a hanger at him.

“They were my favorite part of the movie. I will not apologize.” Petros did all but cross his arms over his chest in a snit.

Harry didn’t bothering hiding that smile.

“Do we have a pattern yet? Or anything?”

Harry turned back to the bed and let Petros do up the buttons on his deep purple shirt.

“I think our pattern has yet to reveal itself.”

Harry nodded like he was expecting that answer. He could be spontaneous. Taking the time off to travel, taking Petros with him. And now taking unexpected routes. It was nothing.

“We can let the pattern determine itself whenever it feels like. You’re right, of course.”

Petros was not deceived by Harry’s banker voice, but he nodded solemnly along, content to let Harry believe whatever he needed to.

Harry sighed as he leaned down to kiss him one last time before the small goodbye kiss at the door.

Harry had always believed in the beautiful things in life.


End file.
